They Say It's Your Birthday
by mamamu-yan
Summary: Mike can't remember enjoying any of his birthdays in the past 24 years of his life. Thankfully, Freddy Fazbear's specializes in making birthdays as special as can be. !This will now be the place for my meaningless drabbles/oneshots! Mainly rated T for Mike's potty mouth.
1. Chapter 1

**Happy Birthday, Mike!**

When Mike turned 1 year old, he couldn't remember anything about the birthday party his parents held. According to his scarce amount of friends over the years, their parents held a grand get together at the house, inviting practically all their relatives from cousins to great aunts and uncles who were twice removed. They all ate a big cake while taking turns holding the birthday baby.

Mike once looked through his family photo album and found the section where he was born, and went a few pages further from there. Since there weren't a lot of photos of him as an infant, he found his first birthday without trouble. He was bothered to see that there was only one page involving his birthday, and it was only a picture of him at his highchair with a small cupcake holding a single candle, sitting right in front of his smiling baby face. He wasn't that bothered, but compared to what he's heard over the years, he wondered if his parents even tried that day.

When Mike turned 4, his mom invited only a handful of children from his preschool to come over to their house for a party in the afternoon. Mike hardly remembered what exactly happened, but recognized some aspects in the photos that caused his memory to spark. He remembered having blue streamers and the cool Transformers party hats for his classmates and he got the big crown made of paper. When he inspected the pictures he noticed how glum he looked but how joyful his classmates seemed. They were getting along and happily eating at the cake but little Mike who sat at the head of the kitchen table was either picking at his slice of cake or staring down into his lap. Mike, for the life of him, couldn't remember what had happened that made him so upset that day but he had a hunch it either involved someone saying something to him. Probably his parents.

When he turned 5, he was sick with strep throat and had to stay home sucking popsicles while his grouchy neighbor baby sat him. That sucked.

When Mike turned 6, he remembered it being his best birthday turning into his worst. He had the same type of party he did in preschool, but he invited more people who were more or less his friends than just random classmates his mom felt sorry for. It was at his house again, and his parents had little games set up in his playroom. Mike remembers trying to play, but not having much fun. His birthday party slowly turned into regular competitive roughhousing he experienced during recess than really having a laid back time and giving attention to him, the birthday boy of the day. That was the same year when he pleaded his mom to make a certain over the top birthday cake, a huge step forward from the mundane chocolate icing on chocolate cake she usually made for him. It was difficult to make, and Mike regretted making her do it, because at the end of the day when it was time to eat it, his mother was not happy with him. She acted passive aggressive for the rest of the day, frustrated that her time and effort was just going to be destroyed anyway. She still holds that memory against her son to this day, and he acts like he hardly remembers anything. But he remembers the scowl on her face, his greedy friends attacking at it, and how Mike felt anything but happy that day.

When Mike turned 10, the big double digits, he knew that year had to be special. His mother told him that his two best friends, Brian and Davey, wanted to play with him after school, the day before his birthday. Mike was oblivious to what was happening, despite his mother's cheeky smile the whole car ride there. Walking into his friend's house, he was greeted by them spring from behind the furniture, underneath a hand drawn banner done in crayons that read 'H A PpY BiRTH DAY MIKE ! !" It was a shame that Mike was so overjoyed in the beginning, expecting a great day of games and presents but it surely went downhill whenever Brian wanted to go do something and Davey shooting it down and insisting they do something else. It had nothing to do with Mike, and the rest of the day consisted of his two friends bickering and arguing and their mothers coming in to shout at them every time their voice rose too high. Mike remembers the sour feeling of not having a good time and secretly sneaking past the fighting to his mom and nervously asking if they could go home.

Middle school was a blur to Mike because each year seemed the same. He'd go into school and instead of getting a chorus of "Happy Birthday!"'s he was met with various fists colliding into his thin wimpy arms and walking off stiffly with bruises from birthday punches all day. There was one year when he turned 12, and a girl in his class liked the tradition of making a bracelet out of colorful string from a bracelet making kit she always carried around and giving it to her classmates on their birthday. She would welcome them when they walked in early in the morning and put the bracelet on them while wishing them a happy birthday. Not only was Mike excited to get the bracelet from her, but he always thought she was pretty cute, and blushed at the thought of maybe giving her a thank you kiss on the cheek or at least a hug. When he walked into school on his birthday, he saw her, but she wasn't standing by the door. She was far across the room, talking with her friends. She had the bracelet kit on her desk, but it wasn't opened. Mike felt a hard pang of sadness in his chest but kept his head looking down as he unpacked and took his seat. When they announced his name on the morning announcements under the birthdays for November 30th, Mike sneaked a peek from underneath his bangs and saw the look of utter shock break out on her face, he felt a little bit better. She just forgot, that's why. She quickly turned to her friend sitting next to her, pointing her finger very obviously at Mike, looking distraught. He then saw her friend giving a 'whatever' shrug and the cute girl nodded her head, agreeing. That pang of sadness came back as a series of bricks against's Mike's chest, and he kept his head down the entire day.

Dealing with his birthday in high school wasn't nearly as bad as middle school, or the years prior. He was lucky it fell on a weekend for two years in a row so he didn't have to encounter any other "presents" with a fate worse than innocent punches. Besides, when you reach high school, as a teenage boy, no one really cares in the first place but your parents. He walked side by side with his mother going down the aisle in a random craft store at the mall when she found a pack of professional sketching pencils hanging on the wall for a cheap price. She asked "You said you wanted to practice drawing right? Because you're in that art class?" Mike studied the pack and nodded before she casually dropped the pencils in her cart. "Happy Birthday, then."

Everyone says once you're in college everything gets better, right? Unless better involves debt, relationships and depression then yes, things certainly did change for Mike. He stopped mentioning to people that his birthday was a few days away because he expected nothing in return. His roommate did not like him very much, and neither did the roommate's friends who lived on that floor. Their present to Mike was ignoring him the whole day and giving him peace and quiet. Whether they actually did that to be nice or to be jerks, Mike will never know. He checked his Facebook and all he got were the same Happy Birthdays from family members who used emoticons and lingo that made Mike cringe and shut his laptop. His girlfriend one year, Clara, did take him out for dinner on his birthday, but he accidentally let something "slip out" about the dress she was wearing and she stormed out, leaving him to pay the pricey bill. She's now his ex-girlfriend, he's living in an apartment complex by himself in the suburbs with little to no connection with his parents and all his friends abandoned him. The only "Happy Birthday" Mike got was from himself when he glared at himself in the mirror in the morning before going to whatever crap job he had holding down at the time.

This year that crap job was titled Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, a 30 year old pizza joint that had seen better days. The establishment's history bothered Mike but he honestly had no motivation to crack down on the mystery, especially with his overly cheery boss who is most likely only using that persona as a barrier between the Freddy Fazbear's the children know and the Freddy Fazbear's only he's allowed to know.

He had been there for nearly a month now, for a measly wage of four dollars per hour. At this point, Mike didn't care. He certainly changed a lot over the years; from a kid who worried about anything to an adult who cared about nothing. He wasn't trying to impress anyone. Even if there was someone, he showed to emotion besides a cracked smile or a limp shrug. To save on expensive bills, he hardly showered and only used the street lamps as lights at night time. Now that he has this night time security job, he had no reason to worry about the electricity. In his home, at least.

Mike doesn't like thinking about the horrible first week or so at this crap job. Just to remember those animatronics-y'know, those robot creatures that sing and do a little dance for children during the day-trying to capture him and ultimately kill him gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Ever since he got fed up that one night and secretly tampered with their A.I levels for the nighttime, they were pretty much acting the same they would during the day. They saw him as a friend instead of a threat. They saw him and treated him like they would with the children they entertained. He wasn't all too keen on it, and even though they stopped trying to track him down, he preferred to stay in his office, isolated. Not like he can communicate with a bunch of walking and talking pieces of metal. What use can they be?

The tired young man of 24 was drifting off to sleep after pondering these memories before he heard the store's clock chime, and saw it read six o'clock on the dot. As he backed up his belongings, which wasn't much, his boss strode in through the front glass doors, hearing the local train rolling by when the doors opened.

"Top of the mornin, Mikey!" His boss gave a happy wave and Mike cringed at the nickname his mom gave him. "Mornin', Sir."

Mike started taking a quick path for the doors but his boss, who had walked over to the stage where the animatronics stood frozen in order to inspect them, spun around and hollered after him.

"Mikey, wait! Come over here."

'_Blow me_,' Mike mentally groaned and dragged himself over to his boss, meeting him halfway. "Yes, sir?"

The sneaky grin stretched out on his boss's wrinkled face made him feel uncomfortable. "I heard from a few document papers that it's your birthday tomorrow!"

If it wasn't his boss saying this, he would have been thrilled that someone remembered his birthday. "Uh, yes, sir. It is. I'll be 25."

"Ah!" His boss boomed, holding his stomach. "What a great age to be! I'd do anything to be at that young age again."

'No kidding.'

"And what a great way to start your birthday, here at Fazbear's where we take every birthday to heart!" His boss then reached in his breast pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch. "Take this, as my birthday gift to you, young man."

Mike held out his hand, took the pouch and looked inside.

"...Pennies."

His boss waved a fat finger in front of his face, smirking for who the fuck knows. "Pennies bring good luck, my boy. You'll thank me later."

"Gee, I don't know what to say..." Mike's eyes lazily drifted from his boss's smiling face to the useless pennies in his hands. "...I can buy a whole pack of gum with this."

"Maybe even _two_!" His boss chuckled and patted the young man on his shoulder. "Now get some sleep. You'll be needing it for your birthday shift."

Mike was unconsciously glaring at the pouch of pennies in his hands but it subtly melted away. It was better than punches.

"Thank you, sir. I will."

Mike got very little sleep that morning but it's not like it mattered because he can spend his whole shift catching up on it. He never bothered to look at his social media sites, he didn't check his text messages. He just watched television all day until it was time to pull himself together and go to work.

He got to the pizzeria and noticed his boss was not there waiting for him, like he usually is. Mike shrugged, did a mock salute to the Freddy, Bonnie and Chica who remained on the stage and went to his office. The clock chimed 12 and Mike ripped up a few pieces of scrap paper and threw it in the air as it came fluttering down like confetti.

"Happy birthday to me."

A few minutes passed as his eyes already began to drift shut, idly listening to the fan buzz and the florescent lights hum as he kept his feet propped up on the desk, leaning back in his rolling chair.

Then there came a screech.

Not the actual screeching from the robots, but what sounded like a chair leg being pulled across the floor.

Mike cracked open and eye and waited.

There was more squeaking, sounding like multiple chairs were being moved around. Louder screeches were then heard all at the same time, probably tables being reorganized. Mike knew those robots were weird in keeping their restaurant in order and often heard this before but not as noisy and rushed as this. He heard different sounds being mixed together like shuffling, mummers, clanging, squeaks and guitar strings, most likely Bonnie with his guitar, but why was he even holding his guitar? Were they going to preform? Absolutely not.

He finally decided to check the cameras to see what in the hell those things were doing but-

"The fuck?"

All the cameras were working perfectly fine and showed vacant room, one after another until he got to the dining hall-it was pitch black. It was working, because there was no message saying it was disabled unlike the kitchen camera, but it showed no picture.

Sighing, Mike felt around the desk for the flash light and took it before shining it in the dimly lit hallway on his right side. He gulped, still finding the peeling posters and chipped walls eerie in this setting, and waited a few moments until something happened that would give him a good enough reason to leave his office.

POP!

What sounded like a balloon popping, Mike grumbled and hoisted himself from his chair. The further he went down the hallway, the quieter the noises got until it was silent aside from Mike's shoes shuffling on the floor. His flashlight shone on the stage, where the curtains remained wide open and there were no animatronics in sight. Even on their good terms, Mike didn't trust these guys completely, and bit his lip nervously as the battery for his flashlight began to die out.

"Reeeal funny, guys. Look, I don't know what you did with the camera in here but-"

On que, his flashlight flickered and finally shut off, and as he began cursing and shaking it to turn it back on in luck, the spot lights on the stage flashed on, causing Mike to jump back and frantically search the room. All the colorful spotlights hanging from the cieling pointed towards the center of the room, on the table where the child who celebrates their birthday usually sit at, to see it decorated with a box of freshly baked pizza, and beautifully decorated cake with fondant and candles and those four fucking robots standing behind it-the rabbit, the bear, the duck and that fox-who literally came skidding in to the picture from probably working the spotlights, all rose their stiff arms into the air, the biggest smile they can manage to make with their metal jaws as they sang in booming, cheerful voices.

"_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHAEL!_"

The birthday boy stood as still as a statue, except for his unsteady fall and rising of his chest. His eyes kept sweeping across the room at the display in front of him. The table they stood behind was drapped in a special table cloth unlike the other tables, as had streamers attached to the corners. There were five chairs pushing into it, each having a few balloons tied to the tops. Mike began to scratch at his pant leg out of nervous habit.

"You guys did this."

"Yes, we did." Bonnie jerked his head to nod.

"Just for me."

"Yes." Chica did so to.

"You knew it was my birthday."

"Ay, wes heard ya speaking to ta' boss." Foxy had the remains of the rubber from a popped balloon stuck to his hook.

"And you did this all, just for me."

"Why of course, it's your birthday." Freddy said.

The young man stood there, emotionless, and it soon began to worry the animatronics since this isn't the typical reaction of someone walking in on a birthday surprise. They didn't know what to do, or so, and instinctively, three heads turned towards their leader, as Freddy waddled his way around the table, approaching Mike.

"Michael? Are you alright?"

The bear reached his paw out to take Mike by the arm-

And then Mike fell to his knees.

He dropped his flashlight and fell to his knees.

Mike fell to his knees, buried his face into his hands and cried.

He cried like he never cried before on his birthday.


	2. Chapter 2

"Fucking work."

Mike kicked the heater fan again with his foot, more aggressively than the first fifty times that he hit it. He had bought it a few days ago from a cheap pharmacy in hopes that it would keep him warm at work since they shut off the heat due to their budget cuts. Soon, he'll be buying a pot to pee in because they can't afford plumbing. Bastards.

"Come. ON." Mike scowled before he finally picked up the dumb fan and shook it. "WORK!"

The fan began to make a strange buzzing noise before the the blades slowly came to a halt, the little heat that it produced stopped blowing out as well. His entire office fell dead, silent and cold.

Mike frowned and dropped the fan to the ground, emotionless. "I destroy everything I touch."

"Great."

"GREAT."

"Fuck me."

The young man collapsed back in his chair, sighing, until he heard the chilly breeze whisk past the left door, carrying the faint tune of a piano. He didn't react, though. Those freaks played music occasionally. No, a lot. Mike never had the urge to go and listen, though. He never had the need to leave the office before, even if they did try to coax him with the promise of pizza and games. Fuck that.

He heard a few more notes drift by, very broken up, so he couldn't understand the tune. When he tried to listen, though, Mike felt a sudden gust of warmth blow in, and his goose bump infested body had tingled for that split second until it was all gone. His eyebrows furrowed and he stared down the darkness of the hallway.

Did they fucking have the heat on?

"Oh hell no."

Mike had kept his winter jacket on to keep warm but grabbed his scarf and gloves before he stood up and began to walk down the seemingly toasty hallway. The closer he got to the main dining area, the more comfortable he felt and the more clearly he could hear the music that was playing. The piano keys became more coherent as he recognize the rhythm, but the voices caught him by surprise.

"My mother will start to worry."

It was clearly Chica's voice. It was unbelievably clear and...good for a robot...thing.

"My father will be pacing the floor."

He knew the song, but could only hear one voice. He barely made out the male part; it sounded more like a rumple that was too low to make out.

Mike's stepping became more cautious and slow paced. He rubbed his gloved hands together, buried his nose behind his scarf, and peeked around the corner when he spotted the silhouette of the party tables from the glow of the spotlights on the stage.

"So really I'd better scurry."

"Beautiful, please don't hurry."

There was a bass playing along with the piano, the deeper voice became more prominent but Mike stood off to the side, far away from the stage, but stood there and watched. Freddy was seated at the grand piano standing in the middle of the stage. (Where did that shit come from?) Bonnie was not too far from the bear's side, sitting on a stool with his bass cradled in his lap as he strummed along with the keys. Chica was facing the side of the stage where Mike stood, which caused him to keep his eye on her the most inf ear of being caught. She leaned lazily against the piano, and even though Mike was nervous of her spotting him, her eyesight never seemed to leave Freddy's, who was gazing up back at her. If they held actual human expression, Mike would have guessed they were infatuated with each other, and Bonnie seems chill enough to be sitting off to the side, strumming at his bass. Mike held his arms and leaned against the wall, still peeking around the corner. He had grown unusually warm and was enjoying the song...only a bit, though.

Chica propped her head up by a fist and lazily ran her other wing across the surface of the piano. "But maybe just half a drink more..."

Freddy seemed to grin at this (can they even grin?) and inched a bit closer on the seat."Put some records on while I pour."

Mike's eye grew heavy until a sudden twitch and tingle came to his nose

"I really can't stay."

Oh no.

"Baby, don't hold out."

SHIT-

"Oh, but it's cold outsi-"

"AH-CHOO!"

The three animatronics on stage reflexively snapped their heads towards the security guard muffling his mouth from his sneezing fit. Chica stood straight, expressionless, as did Bonnie with guitar in hand, and Freddy instinctively slammed the top of the piano down. They stood and stared as Mike's vision focused again, rubbing his red nose.

"I-I'm sorry, really, I...heard the music and stuff and, um...y-y'know-"

"We didn't realize you were listening." Chica spoke, a bit sheepish, as her eyes rolled to cast down at the floor.

"It won't happen again." Bonnie said in a monotone voice.

Freddy stood up from his seat in front of the piano, tipping off his hat to scratch his head. "With all do respect, Michael. We are simply not use to having...humans listen to us play our music. We apologize."

Mike simply blinked and took a step forward. "Are you kidding? You guys sounded...well, it sounded nice. Christmas songs usually aren't my thing, but the way you played and...performed," his eyes darted between Freddy and Chica, "well, it was...pleasing."

The robots stood still, not quite sure what to say, their voice boxes barely making a sound.

The guard felt awkward, naturally, and pathetically tried to bring the topic up again. "You guys can...still play around me. I don't care. Well, I DO care but I'll enjoy it. Hopefully. Do you know any other songs?"

"Unfortunately," Freddy placed his top hat back on his head, "there are only so many songs we can hear and memorize both the music and the lyrics to...it's rare we hear any other music but our own. We're lucky if we can catch onto the radio playing from the office during the day."

The way Bonnie and Chica craned their necks down in a shameful manner made Mike feel sympathetic towards them. He didn't blame them-the songs they're programmed to sing are cheesy as hell and shouldn't even be considered good music. The fact that they held such passion for a classic and are interested in knowing more...

"Well, y'know..." Mike ran a sleeve against his wet nose, glancing at the clock that read 1 a.m. "It i_s_ Christmas day, technically."

Their heads perked up at the tone of his voice, curious.

"Why don't I play you some music? As a way of celebrating. All you guys had to do was ask." His lips twitched into a smile, and the robots exchanged excited looks to each other.

"We'd love to!" Chica seemed to bounce on her toes, causing the stage to shake. Bonnie clutched his guitar to his chest and Freddy folded his hands together in anticipation.

"Thank you, Michael."

"Anytime. So, you guys ever heard of Sublime?"

**should this even be considered a decent christmas drabble?! i sorta let my ego get the best to me because of all the follows this got even tho it was intended to be a oneshot and nothing more...i had no idea how to continue it, so i decided to make it the pit of fnaf related oneshots that i'll bust out every idk 8 years or so**

**why you people even came here is BEYOND ME.**

**but seriously thanks so much for taking a liking to my birthday oneshot and i hope you like this one and the others to come!**

**happy holidays!**


	3. Chapter 3

Mike remained seated in his office chair, fidgeting with his fingers. Scratching at his knuckles, picking at the cuticles of his fingernails, down to rubbing his clammy palms together. He simply sat there in the tiny office, barely any ventilation and the only sound that he could hear was the humming of the desk fan and the pleasant piano keys heard from the show stage. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Mike tucked his chin on top of them and stayed in a tight ball on his chair.

A couple hours ago he had walked in by himself a few minutes early than his normal clock in time. He accidentally ran into one of the news chefs at the restaurant, nearly knocking her to the floor. Instinctively he sputtered out apologies and grabbed her while pulling her back to her feet, the women too shaken to respond at first. After nervously brushing back his hair and patting her on the back too quickly, Mike asked her for her name (_Okay, why?_) and how long she's been working there. (_Are you trying to scare her off?_)

And that's exactly what he did. The woman held her hands in front of her defensively, at a loss for words before stumbling around the corner and out the door, leaving Mike standing there with his hands still outstretched for a handshake. That moment alone was whole middle and high school life in a nutshell, and it was cracked open again in the form of an incredibly attractive woman who ran away from his clumsy, awkward self.

Who was he in this world? **This small speck out of a billion**. A billion of other specks who were bigger and more useful than him. Look at him.** A night security guard for a run down pizzeria that no one outside of this town knows about. **What else was he doing with his life? **Absolutely nothing.**

He gazed at his phone which was sitting on a pile of forgotten paperwork. He couldn't even recall the last time someone other than his mom texted or called him for casual talk. Mike only kept close to one friend from college, but he had a responsible job and lived in a co-op with his girlfriend somewhere uptown. The group of friends he was desperately holding on to since high school had split a part. Or maybe they didn't split a part. Maybe they faked it all and only told Mike that they were drifting away from each other so they could kick him out of the group. Because they didn't like him.

Mike withdrew a shaky breath and buried his face.

_**-He can't look people in the eye.**_

_**-He avoids social gatherings at all costs.**_

_**-He can't even go to the grocery store without feeling as if everyone was staring at him.**_

_**-The only thing his family asks him about involves employment and girlfriends (He hates one and doesn't have the other).**_

_**-He doesn't have anybody to turn to, to talk with, to ask for advice or to hang out with.**_

_**-He spent New Years Eve with his feet propped up on his desk and eating Chinese takeout as he listened to the thousands of people in Times Square count down.**_

"Oh God," he groaned when a familiar burning came to his throat. He rolled his head back and looked at the dark ceiling, emotionless until he felt his eyes water and leak down the side of his head. All he wanted to say was 'I want to go home' but he wouldn't do anything but lay in bed and rethink everything he's thinking then.

He wanted his life to change and get better, but he didn't know how or where to begin. Mike was drowning; drowning in the ocean with water slapping at his face and stabbing him in his numb body and there are his parents on a dock nearby, looking down at him with scornful looks as they tell him to "just swim".

"Micheal?"

Mike jerked in his seat but remained in his embarrassing position. He only now realized the silence of the building with the absence of the piano keys. Very slowly he lifted his head and rested his feet back on the ground and saw the big bear himself standing in the doorway on the left. Paws behind his back and head slightly bowed, Freddy gave, what was intended to be, a skeptical look. "Are you feeling alright in here, Micheal?"

Mike held a hand to his chest and gave a curious held tilt. "Who, me? Of course, couldn't be better."

Freddy stood still.

"Who wouldn't be better, with this...this minimum wage job where I-I can't make a name for myself! Can't get enough experience to live in a fuckin' fancy ass apartment with a girlfriend because who would want me, right? Yes Freddy, I'm glad I'm in this situation; this hell which I am now living."

Cheeks flushed, Mike was now sitting up straight in his chair, hands anxiously gripping his slacks as he tried to glare at anything else but the animatronic in the doorway. He stiffened up with the latter ducked under the doorway and walked in the office before crossing his arms across his metal chest and leaning against the desk, facing the guard. Mike quietly glanced up at the bear, his body gone cold and shaking with anticipation.

"Micheal." The bear rose an eyebrow. "Wanna talk about it?"

Mike immediately lifted an arm to quickly wipe away his tearful eyes and nodded his head multiple times before Freddy placed a paw on his shoulder and gave the young man his full AI attention span.

**i now have to beat the original story with more angst. too bad that will probably never happen AHA. i'm sorry, i've been in a funk since new years. i usually write to vent my feelings and what's going on in my life but this one was a little weird. oh well. if people enjoy my misery that's okay with me!**


	4. Chapter 4

**this is probably the most useless drabble of them all. this doesn't invovle the animatronics, but it's mostly a huge piece of headcanon backstory for good old mikey. basically about him and his personal life around the time he first gets the job at freddy's. can you believe i thought of this all in one sitting?**

Mike's grandmother was a kind soul; she was the only one in his family who got him meaningful presents and protected him from his unfair parents whenever they scolded him. She lived far away though, so Mike lost touch from her when he reached his teenage years and had no one trustworthy to turn to in his time of need. Fortunately, she bought her own cooperative apartment complex in a quiet town an hour away from his parents house and when his parents hit the tipping point and quiet literally left his bags on the front stoop, Mike went to live with his grandma in the co-op.

After a few months of living together under his grandma's care and coddling (pathetically), due to personal reasons, she needed to be relocated to another state when her health declined. She turned the ownership rights over to Mike, and after another few months of living by himself, the family in the complex above his moved out and he gained access to the vacant house and all the private necessities that came with it.

Sure, it was pretty much illegal and the other homeowners looked down upon him like a ruckus teenager who disturbed the tranquility of the property, but Mike pretended as if it didn't phase him.

Mike juggled with numerous job to scrounge up some pocket money around the same time he was finishing up college. It was a rough patch in his life which left him feeling bitter almost everyday, and it was also around this time that a young couple finally took interest in the empty complex above Mike's, which hasn't been looked at by any buyers for nearly a year. For such a simple process, it left Mike feeling irritated that he would have to meet these people if they actually signed for the co-op, be friendly towards them, pretend to like them and tolerate with their noise and schedules. He couldn't help but think of the last family that lived up their around the time he moved in with his grandma. They held little get together every other Friday night and they didn't own _carpet_. Do you know how hard it is to sleep when people are laughing and stomping around upstairs while singing along to Cher at 1:30 a.m?

Since his grandma moved out, Mike has done the best he could with being just as loud and obnoxious as those people; he blasted the worst ear piercing heavy metal he owned, slammed doors and talked on the phone with more emphasis than necessary. It took a while, and he didn't know if his tactics truly worked but a few months later that couple packed their things and left behind a perfectly nice apartment. That is, until the weirdos came.

Mike first saw them when one of the board representatives gave them a tour of the available houses. He occasionally peeked out to see which ones they were leaving or coming out of and, sure enough, he spotted the happy couple walking hand in hand up the path around the center garden until they reached the steps of the door leading to the upstairs. Taking one quick glance through the curtains, Mike sneered. The guy was only a couple year older than him, for sure. He didn't look like the sitting behind a desk in a cubicle type guy, but he certainly gave off this superior vibe from whatever fucking job he had. And her, the girl; like something out of a Tim Burton cartoon. She had large bug eyes, a timid smile and the strangest taste in clothing. Was the necklace of hers made out of real bones?

"This is the last one to show, and it's the most popular in this area, since it's closest to the parking lot." The representative unlocked the door to the upstairs and led the couple to their possibly new apartment. Mike quickly scrambled to his stereo system.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He watched as they moved their stupid furniture to their crappy new co-op. He watched an old Victorian sofa pass by, a box of fragile antique glassware, a retro lamp and other creepy stuff that Mike would never want in his place. The new couple have been unpacking all day, and soon enough, they were going to bother him and introduce themselves. But they can take their time, he thought. In the meantime, he had to go job hunting.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dropping the newspaper and the red pen on the counter, Mike sighed and strolled his way to the door. He took a casual glance out the window and saw the new guy minus his girlfriend, Morticia Addams. Mike licked his lips and tugged at his flannel before opening the door to the charming smile of the older man in front of him.

"Hey, my name's Ebin. My fiancee and I just moved in upstairs a couple days ago...I just wanted to introduce myself and say I hope we could be pals."

The man dubbed Ebin jabbed his hand in front of Mike while still smiling, and Mike just stood there and looked at it. It took much willpower to restrain the muscles in his face from glaring too hard as he took the man's hand and shook it slowly. "Yeah, hey. I'm Mike. I've been here for almost three years now. This use to be my grandmother's but...it's not anymore." Mike's eyes darted to the ground and awkwardly removed his hands from Ebin's grip. Nothing seemed to phase the guy, though.

"Ah, that's cool. We were actually recommended to this place by my aunt." Ebin chuckled and put his hands in his coat pocket. "Seems like we're the only 'children' around here, huh?"

Mike simply stared the guy down before giving a delayed chuckle and took an unconscious step back. "Uh, yeah. Heh."

Ebin looked Mike up and down and smiled slightly, getting the message. This guy was clearly uncomfortable but he couldn't blame him. Now that he was getting a good look at him, he noticed his disheveled appearance, the five o'clock shadow growing in and the bags under his droopy eyes. Poor fella. Ebin nodded in understanding and took a step back.

"Anyway, I just wanted to drop by to say hi. Maybe we can hang out later in the week, get to know each other more?"

Mike shrugged and nervously scratched at his arm. "Yeah, hey. Sure."

Ebin gave a thumbs up. "Great. See you around, Mike!"

Mike stood and watched Ebin turn around and walk into his new home. He slammed the door and groaned.

Man, fuck that guy for being so nice.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ebin's fiance, Mrs. Lovett, was walking up the pathway with an art portfolio in one hand and a bag of groceries in another. As she struggled to get the keys out of her purse, she heard disturbing commotion coming from inside Mike's apartment. So far, she's only heard his music and his raunchy laughter coming from the television whenever her and Ebin sat down to eat. But now, it sounded like...hyperventilating? Moaning? Was he banging his fists against something?

As if her thoughts were being read, his front door shook, causing her to jump back before it swung open and out came Mike, stumbling over his shoelaces, in dull blue guard uniform and a black tie. She looked at him with wide as as he struggled to push the key into the lock of his door, and his head eventually snapped in her direction, startling her even more.

"I-I'm sorry." She mumbled and mindlessly searched for her keys until she paused. Her eyes never left him. "I...don't believe we met face to face but, I'm Mixie. Ebin's fiance." She held out her hand like Ebin did, and Mike reluctantly shook it.

"Hi." He swallowed hard and managed to lock his door before nervously standing there and exchanging glances at Mixie. He twitched out a smile before he turned to head towards the walk way until Mixie spoke up. "Hey, are you okay? You look pretty shaken. Do you want to come in?"

"I, uh, a...no. No, no, I gotta...head to work." He hesitated with the last word and turned around, not noticing the look of confusion on her face

"But it's almost...eleven at night. Where do you work at this hour?"

"Who the fuck shops at this hour?" Mike spun around with his arms outstretched and saw her jump back, shocked. And she remained shocked after Mike stuttered out an apology, knowing he'll regret it later on, and walked away and towards his car.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mike was woken up by a pounding at his door. Or, what at least sounded like pounding, seeing as how he woke up with a splitting headache and in a fetal position on the living room floor next to his couch. Glancing at the clock that read noon, Mike dragged his way to the door and opened it, seeing his cheery new neighbor standing there except he didn't look so cheery. Mike instantly gripped the side of his pant leg and held his breath.

Ebin looked at him seriously, with a hint of what? Sadness?

"Hey, Mike. I heard that you met Mikie last night...yeah, she told me about how she asked you a simple question and you yelled at her."

Mike was most likely standing there like a drugged up drooling idiot. "...y-yeah."

Ebin shifted his weight to different feet. "I, uh, was pretty angry when she told me this, and if it wasn't for her pleading, I probably would have came down here to handle you in a much more painful way."

Mike just stared.

"...But I'm not." Ebin sighed and looked down to the ground. "Listen...she told me you looked pretty awful last night, as if you saw a ghost. She asked me to see if there was anything wrong. We're actually both pretty concerned about you."

The two men stood facing each other, staring. Mike began chewing away at his bottom lip, not exactly sure if this was the right guy to talk to; if he even wanted to talk at all. The guy literally just indirectly threatened him for shouting at his girlfriend and was now assuring him that he should open up to him about all his shitty problems.

"Thanks...for your concern." Mike's voice was hoarse, and he cringed when he heard it. "But, uh...yeah, it's fine. I can handle my problems on m-my own, thanks. Thanks for asking but...no thanks. I'm good."

Ebin frowned, clearly not liking the answer. "I only want to help, Mike. I know we just met a week ago, and we don't know anything else about each other except our names, but if you need any help, ever...you know where to find me. Just in case..."

The older man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card to hand to Mike. "You can always call me up on my cell phone."

Mike glanced at the card in his palm and nodded a stoic thanks to his neighbor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Have a good day." Ebin gave Mixie a quick peck on the lips before she picked up her purse and left the apartment. Their entire place was still in disarray since they moved in, but they both decided on repainting before they officially settle down and arrange the furniture. By the time Mixie left for work, Ebin had set up their living room for an efficient day of painting. With all the furniture pushed to the center of the room, spare blankets covering them and the floors, Ebin cracked open a fresh new bucket of paint and went straight to work.

That us, until his phone started vibrating. Setting down the bucket, Ebin dusted his hands and looked at the unfamiliar number before answering it.

"Hello?"

"...Hey. It's Mike."

Ebin couldn't stop the smile that itched it's way on his lips. "Oh hey, Mike. What's up?"

There was a long pause before Mike finally managed to respond. "Uh, do you...got a moment? I need somebody to talk to."

The older man's smiled softened. "Sure. I'll meet you outside in five minutes?"

"Okay."

Throwing on his coat, Ebin jogged down the stairs and closed his door and noticed Mike circling around the perimeter of the gazebo that was in the center of the garden a few feet away from their front stoop. Ebin walked up the steps of the gazebo and noticed Mike's attire, which is what Mixie described him wearing two nights ago. "Yo, Mike...everything alright?"

Mike stopped pacing to look his neighbor in the eyes, rubbing his numb hands together from the cold. "Yes...no...no, not at all."

Ebin crossed his arms and leaned against one of the supporting poles. "Mike, whatever it is, I'm here to listen. What's wrong."

Looking down at his shoes, Mike took a deep breath before he looked back up at Ebin, his eyes watering.

"Alright, but promise you won't freak out..."

**sorry i just wasted 10-20 minutes of your life**


	5. The One Where Bonnie is an Idiot

**oh, goodie! a two part! C8**

He sat in car for approximately 10 minutes, letting it warm up before he pulled out of his parking spot and out on the slick streets during this silent January snowfall.

It has been snowing well past dusk that day, with large flakes that immediately stuck to the ground and managed to pile up a few inches to the point where Mike felt guilty ordering take out to be delivered at his apartment. After shoveling down a microwave cooked meal, Mike threw on his winter jacket, gloves and scarf and headed our the door.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Look at that." Freddy murmured. He stood in behind the windows of the lobby, gazing out at the blanket of snow that was illuminated by the dim yellow streetlights. He held his hands behind his back and kept his chin high as Chica waddled her way by his side, placing her wings on his arm.

"It's so quiet and eerie out..." Chica observed before a smile broke across her beak. "Pretty cool." Her expression fell as her eyes rolled up to glance at Freddy. "Do you think Mike will be here eventually?"

Freddy's eyes closed shut, giving a simple nod. "Sure he will. It's never like Michael to miss a day of work. Perhaps the snow is delaying his arrival."

Chica turned her attention back to the snowfall and carefully rested the side of her head against Freddy's arm. They remained there for a few more minutes until Bonnie strolled over and looked between the two. A few gears whirred around in his head as he took in the sight, something strange filling up in his empty chest.

"What are you two doing?"

Chica turned her head around. "We're watching the snow while waiting for Mike. Wanna watch with us?"

He eyed the way she had her wings wrapped delicately around Freddy's arm.

"It's not like I've never seen snow before." His tone rose in bitterness as he turned around and walked back to the stage, trying hard not to spin his head around to look at them.

As he shuffled his way on the stage, a familiar face poked it's way out of the starry curtain of Pirate's Cove, his features twisted in bewilderment by the rabbit's actions. "Blimey, wha's wit ta attatude, eh? Got eh screw up yer bum or somethin'?" Foxy remarked when he noticed he stiffly Bonnie sat on the edge of the stage, staring ahead with a subtle glare. "Bucko? Ya'll right?"

Bonnie didn't show a noticeable reaction to Foxy's comments. His vision never strayed from the bear and the chicken standing side by side near the windows. "Why do they have to stand so to each other? Alone."

"Eh, who knows." Foxy followed Bonnie's line of sight, understanding what he meant. Poor sucker. "What, ehh...what exactly are ye blabbin' on 'bout? Te fat scurvy dog in te large hat?"

"No," Bonnie tensed. "The one...holding onto him. Why does she always do that? She doesn't like him that way."

Foxy eyed rolled around his head and shook his head in disappointment, until a sly smirk curled it's way to his muzzle. "Me thinks she does. Neva saw da lass so enamored wit' da son uva biscuit eater..." He held his paw to his maw to stifle an upcoming chuckle. "...she told me 'erself."

The way Bonnie's joint twisted in discomfort, the frantic whirring and clicking going on in his system...it brought a sickly pleasure to Foxy to the point where he wanted to cackle and pat himself on the back for the effort.

"She never told me." Bonnie replied bluntly.

Foxy scratched his chin with the sharp point of his hook. "'Cos te wench don' like ye all tat much, tinks yer eh landlubber 'n all...if I were ye though..."

Bonnie looked over at the pirate with sad, haf-lidded eye. "What?"

Foxy glanced around the casually, making sure Freddy and Chica were still in their spots and Mike didn't walk in yet. "If I were ye...I'd blow te bear down. Get that bile sucka outta de picture. Da sweet lil' chicadee be all fer ye." He even lifted up his eye patch to emphasis a wink towards the rabbit.

Thought his offer was dark, Bonnie bowed his head, his ear drooping over in sadness. "I could never do that to the boss. I'm too pathetic and hopeless."

Rolling his eyes once more, Foxy shrugged in defeat, throwing his hook and paw in the air for exaggeration. "Blasts, I 'unno! Run away wit yet tail between yer legs? Tey obviously don' care fer ya either way. Don' be held back by dis place if seein' ta lass with them sparklin' amethyst orbs makes ya sea sick."

Bonnie suddenly perked up, eyes opening in realization. "Ya know...maybe you're right, Foxy. I can do so much more if I wasn't trapped in this place. Especially..."

His voice trailed off and lowered to the lowest whisper his voice box could make audible. "...with them. Always together."

Foxy nodded absent mindlessly along with Bonnie's speech, inspecting the shininess of his hook instead. "I hear ya, ollll' Foxy hears ya."

"I'm leaving tonight."

the pirate fox quickly snapped from his day dreaming and lifted up his eye patch. "Ehe, wait, wa?"

"Tonight. I'll leave when Mike comes, when the doors are unlocked." The rabbit hoisted himself off the stage carefully, turning frontal view towards his fellow animatronic. "Thank you, Foxy. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Ehhh.."

The front doors of the restaurant flew open, a gush of flakes and wind whipping past Freddy and Chica as the latter was shielded from the cold by the bear. Mike visibly shook, taking large, robotic steps into the lobby. "Whoa, windy as hell out there." He slammed the double doors behind him and proceeded to take off his coat and accessories.

Foxy's eyes darted from the doors, to Bonnie, and back to the doors before he slowly lowered his eye patch and gripped his curtain. "We neva spoke." And he disappeared in the depths of his cove.

"Michael!" Freddy joyously welcomed the night guard and helped dust off some snow from his clothing. "So nice of you to finally join us." Chica gathered his winter gear and left it by the radiators to dry.

"Yeah, sorry." Mike grumbled and blew into hands which were cupped together. "Dead of the night, no one around, so the streets weren't exactly clear and in driving condition..."

The two nodded in understanding and guided him over to the main radiator where a small amount of heat was blowing out. "Oh sweet solace." Mike gasped and crouched down to get all the heat he could get.

Chica and Freddy stood close to each other, striking up a conversation with Mike, their backs facing the stage. Bonnie stood their emotionless for a few slow minutes before he made his move. With each cautious step, he was careful not to make a noise through the creeks under the carpet. It was basically sneaking around to avoid the cameras, except that two of his allies were close by and more likely to spot him quicker than Mike can react. He mapped out a straight forward beeline towards the front doors, his head facing them but his eyes rolled to face the other three. He reached the doors, and fiddling around the handle to get a good grasp on it with his large paws, he opened it ever so carefully, luckily when the weather had calmed for a couple of seconds and slipped out as he left the doors opened a crack without no body noticing.

"...And so this bitch cut me off, but that's when I finally got here." Mike had finally relaxed his body and was slumped against the wall, practically leaning on the heater for support. The two animatronics stood there with him, listening attentively to Mike's rant to be polite. Foxy, in the meantime, had poked his head out through the slip in the curtains after hearing Bonnie's muffled footsteps across the carpet. If he knew the wretched rabbit was serious about leaving, he wouldn't have gone on like that. Curse him and his wonderful ability to coax!

Sticking out his muzzle, Foxy nervously lifted his eye patch with his hook and surveyed the room, but didn't see the rabbit anywhere. There was a 75 percent chance he left for another room...

But then the fox's eyes landed on the two glass doors that led outside, in the rapidly increasing blizzard. Foxy hesitated to look any closer but his eyesight did not deceive him; he noticed one of the doors opened by a slight crack, and he know Mike shuts them when he walked in. A spiral of wind and snow came swooping down in the parking lot and whipped around before it made it's way to the doors and-

"Oh, blimey..." he mumbled.

The double doors were thrown open by the incredible force of the storm that howled as dirt, gravel and snow came rushing in, coating the carpet and nearby chairs and tables. Mike jumped to his feet instinctively, Foxy fell back into his cove and Freddy stood in front of Chica before shuffling over to assist Mike it closing the doors again.

"Fuck, me..." Mike panted and locked the doors tightly shut. "I could have sworn I closed them when I came in. I always do, dammit."

"Strange..." Freddy remarked out loud, Chica following closely behind. She tsk'd and allowed her eyes roam around the dining area, not excited to clean up this mess now. But she'll have Bonnie help her.

She lifted her head and blinked a few times, the gears turning in her head.

"Bonnie?"

She took a few steps forward towards the stage. "Bonnie?"

She took another few steps towards the hallways. "Bon Bon?"

Chica's eye began frantically scanning the room. She bent her joints, a sense of panic overcoming her.

"F-Fre-ddd-y," her voice box faltered as she took the bear's paw. "I can't-I don't-_w-where's Bonnie_?"

Freddy examined her quickly and walked around the dining hall, down the hallways, in the supply closet and behind the stage. He searched every room while Chica checked them after him, Foxy stayed put in his cove as Mike checked the cameras in the office.

"This is impossible." Freddy stated and lifted his head. "Bonnie, stop playing around. Come out this instant."

The others froze in place, but they were greeted by dead silence.

"Oh gosh..." Chica lifted her wings to her face, her eyes on the verge of leaking. "W-where c-coould he-he-ha-he have gone...?"

Freddy and Mike grimly thought to themselves until someone cleared his voice box of static and meekly spoke up.

"Argg...but, eh, pardon me Fazbear 'n faithful Mikey," Foxy slowly reached his hook out past the curtain and pointed it uncertainly towards the front doors. "Perhaps...te lad took a small detour...afar."

All three exchanged uncertain glances until they turned their attention to the dangerous blizzard that was blowing past their windows.

"O-ooohh, how could he?" Chica squeaked and walked over to the windows while Freddy turned his whole body towards Foxy, a menacing glare overtaking his features.

"Foxy, what have you done?"

Foxy scrambled backwards under Freddy's stare, holding up a shaking finger. "L-lemme explain, capin', er, u-uhhh, Fazbear, b-but may I smartly say wha-at a nice top hat you've got on der-"

"_Enough_!" Fazbear held up his paw, silencing the fox. "Is Bonnie out there, in that storm, all alone?"

Foxy locked eyes with his boss, squirming in his own suit, before he calmed down and lowered his head in shame. "Aye."

The bear pointed a finger straight at Foxy's face. "I'll deal with you in good time...but we must find Bonnie first. Poor fella was never good at finding his way or understanding his routes." He lowered his eyes to the floor, sadden. "Oh, Bonnie."

Chica lowered her eyes as well, her wings still holding onto her face as her voice cracked and glitched over what probably was their version of sobbing. Mike stood in the middle of the dining hall, looking from animatronic to animatronic before growling his breath. "God fucking dammit." Without another word, Mike rushed over to grab his coat and other garments which caught all of their attention.

"Michael." Freddy walked forward, watching the security guard struggle to assemble himself together. "You will...bring Bonnie back, won't you?"

"Well," Mike breathed, zippering up his coat. "I gotta or I don't get paid, you feel me?"

Freddy nodded, wrapped an arm around Chica, and took off his top hat to hold to his chest. "Be careful out there. And...thank you."

Mike did his trademark mock salute to the robots before pushing open the doors and disappearing in the haze of the storm.

**actually that was pretty stupid because i cant do pirate accents or real storylines but i will continue in a second part...lmao, imagine I didn't?**


End file.
